


of a mistletoe christmas and gingerbread kisses

by terribledorkness



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, and mistletoe, it's a christmas fic ya'll!, its got pining, its super corny sorry i couldn't help it, so enjoy all the tropey goodness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-25
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-09-27 06:56:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17157347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terribledorkness/pseuds/terribledorkness
Summary: Regina Mills is in love with Emma Swan.This is a very solid fact, and it makes her do crazy things, like battle termite monsters and bake gingerbread for her nemesis. But, then again, people have done worse things in the name of love.In which Regina and Emma stumble into happiness, one Christmas.





	of a mistletoe christmas and gingerbread kisses

Regina knows it’s shaping up to be a brilliant Christmas the day Snow calls her in a panic about cooking. 

 

_ Cooking.  _

 

It’s an unspoken rivalry the two of them have regarding cooking; rather one sided, because Regina’s lasagne trumps all of Snow’s pathetic attempts at any kind of signature dish, but a rivalry nonetheless. Regina will host a dinner one Sunday, serve a delicious salmon pie which she’s perfected over the course of twenty-eight years and then the next weekend, when Snow  _ insists  _ having the dinner  _ (or what she calls the family dinner much to Regina’s disgruntlement),  _ and what do you know? There is another salmon pie, only this time Snow has added some hideous ingredient such as mango chunks. 

  
No, really, she did that. 

 

Nevertheless, Regina usually reigns in her urge to throw multiple fireballs at Snow’s eager little face, and will swallow the mango chunks  _ (or whatever other hideous ingredient Snow’s tried out) _ , making the occasional backhanded compliment until Emma kicks her under the table. And so it continues. Sunday in, Sunday out, and Regina waits. Waits until she finally gets that call, because Snow had accidentally summoned a hell beast with her cooking, or gassed the apartment. Both of which were likely possibilities. 

 

So as Snow’s voice filters over the phone, Regina allows a lazy grin to settle on her face as she hears the desperate squeaking of her most hated nemesis. 

 

“Of  _ course  _ I’ll help you,” Regina purrs, wondering whether she should be more blatant in her satisfaction. This can’t be easy for Snow, swallowing her pride like this. “Making gingerbread is a speciality of mine.” 

 

“It’s just that tomorrow is Christmas and I’m  _ supposed to have gingerbread,  _ I mean it’s  _ Christmas,  _ what Christmas day doesn’t have  _ gingerbread?”  _ Snow hiccups violently as she sobs. “I haven’t even”  _ hiccup,  _ “finished the”  _ hiccup,  _ “ _ turkey!”   _   
  


Snow’s voice is verging on hysteria, and Regina has to stuff her hand against her mouth to stifle her sniggers. Hysterical Snow is her favourite Snow, because the panic that the woman emits sounds vaguely like a goose squawking frantically. “Dear, listen. I shall recruit Henry this afternoon, and together we’ll make, say, three batches?” 

 

“Thank you,” Snow wails, so loudly that Regina jerks back at the high pitched noise. “I know I don’t say this enough Regina, but  _ thank you! _ ” 

  
“Could have said it when I saved your house from being eaten by that termite monster last week, but gingerbread will do, I guess.” Regina mutters. 

 

Snow, as usual, tunes out Regina’s snark. “You’ll bring it round tomorrow afternoon?” 

  
“I will,” Regina confirms. “And if you have any cinnamon, send it round with Emma when she drops Henry off. I might need some more.” 

 

Snow thanks her again, profusely, and then hangs up. Leaving Regina with a smug smile on her face. 

 

Christmas this year was setting up to be a whole lot of rubbing Snow’s failures in her face, and eating better-than-you gingerbread in front of a roaring fire. Just the way Regina likes it. 

 

***************

 

“Got the cinnamon,” Emma says when Regina when she opens the door, drawing out a little bottle from her dark winter jacket. Henry rushes inside without greeting his mother, dumping his coat on the stand and flinging his shoes off. Regina watches him race away with a raised eyebrow, deciding not to comment. As sweet as Henry can be, his teenage years have been heavily defined by stroppy fits of rebellion, and she doesn’t want to awaken that particular monster on Christmas Eve in an argument about the proper placement of shoes.  

 

“Is he alright?” 

 

Emma sighs, and shoves her long blonde hair back from her face, huffing in the cold air. “We had a chat in the car. About Hook.” 

 

Regina winces in sympathy. Oh, Hook. The pirate had finally gone a step too far a couple of months ago, demanding Emma quit her job at the Sheriff’s station, for various reasons all of which were detailed in books about 18th century housewives. The reality of losing such an integral part of her life had woken Emma up to the marriage she’d been sleepwalking in, and within a week, she’d asked for a divorce, and started proceedings. And despite the obvious improvement, with Emma turning in all the flowery blouses she’d accumulated to the local charity shop and dusting off her leather jacket with glee, Henry had had a less than positive response to the breakup. 

 

And not because he liked Hook so much. 

 

In fact, it was the complete opposite. Hook had attempted to make the divorce long and nasty, refusing to listen to Emma’s firm belief that they couldn’t give the other what they wanted anymore. One of the stipulations he’d demanded had been that he get to see Henry each week. Regina and Emma, had, of course, hotly contested this, but in the end, the fact that he and Emma had been together since Henry had been such a young age had made an impact. Now, once a month, Henry was required to go on an outing with Hook. 

 

“The outing on the twenty-seventh. And Henry  _ really  _ doesn’t want to go.” 

 

“Well I can understand why,” Regina replies, dryly. “The pirate’s only spending time with him in hopes of getting you back.” 

 

Emma hums, scuffing her foot on the floor. "Don't remind me." She replies, rolling her eyes. 

 

Regina feels a hot flash of discomfort go through her-  _fucking jealousy._ "You aren't- you aren't thinking about it, are you?" Regina could barely stand the pirate when he was with Emma, and by himself, he's even worse. The thought of Emma going back to him makes her want to march right over to the docks and push that rum soaked fish right into the sea. 

  
Emma laughs. "No, of course not. We divorced for a reason, Regina, a very valid reason. We never should have gotten married in the first place." 

 

Regina lets out a quiet sigh of relief, more than happy to hear Emma's answer. The fact that Emma now has as much distaste for the pirate as Regina does soothes the years of clenching her fists behind the 'happy' couple's back, and refraining from throwing a nice big fireball at the man whenever he made a sly comment to Regina that hinted he knew more about how she felt for Emma than she let on. Jealousy had always been Zelena's forte, but Regina had been nicely surprised by the lack of green over the short duration of Emma's marriage. 

 

Emma groans. “I’m going to turn up and be assaulted by pleas and threats to have lunch. Which is what they’re doing, by the way. Apparently Killian has finally caught on to the fact that his boat makes Henry seasick, and therefore even less inclined to spend time with him.”

 

“If you want, I can drop him off,” Regina offers, and then immediately curses herself.  _ No  _ she doesn’t want to see that man ever again in her life, but naturally, Emma’s distaste at going affected her. And- well- there is the added benefit of Killian being stopped from making Emma pity him enough to actually stop to have a conversation with him. She was lured in by that fleabag once, who knew if he could do it again. And then Regina would be left, once again, watching Emma, who deserved so much more, riding off into the sunset with a man who did not in any way deserve her. 

 

Well, not that she was a much better choice, but Regina could contain her feelings, unlike Killian. 

 

Oh, yes, there was that. Regina’s pesky little-  _ love-  _ for Emma Swan. The one that made her melt when Emma calls her up asking,  _ “there’s a termite monster attacking Snow and David’s house and I really need you Regina, just you, you’re the only one that can stop this”  _ and despite the fact that Regina would  _ love  _ just to sit back and watch Snow’s house get demolished by a monster Regina  _ said  _ would attack her home if she didn’t put the necessary protections on it, what does she do instead? She gets up at three in the morning, and puts out the metaphorical fire just so that Emma will say,  _ “wow Regina, I don’t know what I’d do without you”.  _

 

Yes, it’s slightly pathetic and completely ruining her reputation as the disgruntled Evil Queen who grudgingly helps when the situation is dire enough, but what can Regina say. Emma makes her dizzy, in a way that no one else does. She’d go to hell for that woman-  _ oh wait.  _

 

It had started- well, Regina couldn’t even pinpoint when it had started. But she’d watched Emma walk up the aisle, and suddenly felt the urgent need to throw something. The burning in her chest that she’d felt then hadn’t abated, and since, only grown. Four years of sharing a son, numerous relationships with other people  _ (okay, flings but still) _ two years of watching her best friend and the woman she was in love with deteriorate in a marriage that obviously wasn’t worth it, and yet, she couldn’t get over Emma Swan. 

 

Honestly, it was getting a little bit ridiculous. Last week, Emma  had complained that the grocery store didn’t sell her favourite brand of coffee beans anymore, and so Regina, responsibly using her power as the mayor, had ordered some. 

 

_ Some  _ turning out to be two tons of the stuff, dumped in the grocery store much to the owner’s bewildered amusement. Regardless, the next morning Regina had greeted a cheerful Emma drinking her coffee with a look on her face that could only be described as orgasmic, so it had been worth it. Not the face, of course, Regina had had to hastily back out of the room in order to avoid Emma seeing how red her face had gotten, but the fact that she had made Emma  _ happy.  _

 

Emma stuffs her hands in her pocket, lips downturned. Immediately, Regina feels that  _ emotion _ rear its head and ask what it can do to make Emma happy. “You want to bake gingerbread?” She blurts out, and Emma’s lips quirk upwards. 

 

Mission accomplished. 

  
  


****************

 

Turns out, however, Emma’s a mess in the kitchen. She can’t measure flour properly, instead spilling it everywhere after tripping over empty air. Letting out a burst of laughter, she coughs so hard on the puff of flour that floats through the air that she then lands against the counter, upturning the milk all over her shirt, and then continues to send the actual carton flying. 

 

Regina resists the urge to smack the other woman. 

 

“ _ Emma!”  _ She shrieks instead, as the milk goes flying. Most of it lands on Regina, and she winces at it splatters against her. Dropping the spoon in her own bowl of gingerbread dough, she glares at the other woman. Who promptly goes pale and looks around for a sponge. 

 

“Shit,” Emma mumbles, frantically searching the tabletop for something to clean up with. “You know I’m clumsy!” 

 

“Yes, yes I do know.” Regina sighs, and picks despondently at her blouse which is now dripping in milk and ever so slightly….

 

_ See through?  _

 

Glancing up quickly, she sees a similarly milk-stained Emma staring at her with her mouth wide open. Regina blushes, saying, “Right, well I better go change, then.” 

 

“Right- uh-” Emma’s eyes seem to zone in on one particular area, and Regina feels her face warm even further. “Yeah you-” Her voice trails off, and Regina can’t help but smirk. 

 

“Like what you see?” Regina teases, despite her own red face. She will never give an opportunity up to needle the other woman, not while she’s still alive. 

 

“Um, yeah,” Emma blurts out, before stumbling backwards, hands over her mouth. “Oh- no- wait- I mean-” She pauses, and there’s an awkward silence in the kitchen, before Regina clears her throat. 

 

“Regardless over whether or not you can drag your eyes away from my breasts, Emma, I’m going to go upstairs to change. I’ll get you another shirt as well.” Emma chokes on air, and splutters indignantly. Regina can’t resist one last jibe, and she winks as she saunters out. “If I’d known that simply wearing a wet shirt was a way to get you speechless, I’d have done it years ago.” 

 

Grabbing the extra shirt after she’s changed, she returns to a red-cheeked Emma, staring rather morosely at the bowl of dough.  _ Dammit.  _ Regina curses,  _ I was supposed to cheer her up, not make inappropriate jokes. I probably pushed too far.  _

 

“Emma?” Regina asks, rather hesitantly. Usually she would continue to tease Emma about the incident, making a couple more snipes, but its Christmas, and Emma just went through a divorce. It’s not a nice time to be alone, and Regina knows this better than anyone. “I’m- I’m sorry about teasing you.” 

 

Emma’s head shoots up, and, if it were possible, she looks even more morose at the mixture of remorse and pity that must be spread across Regina’s face. “No, no,” She mutters. “I’m fine. You haven’t teased me like that in- god, well, years.” She grabs the shirt from Regina’s hands, and stands there, completely still. “It was nice. Thanks.” 

 

“No problem.” Regina, in an uncharacteristic move, shuffles her feet. “Um, right, well! Why don’t you change, and we can get back to making some gingerbread. Snow will have a conniption if she doesn’t have at least three batches to serve tomorrow.” 

 

“Yeah,” Emma lets out a low laugh, and Regina feels her heart jump in her chest. “Mom’s already throwing a fit about having gone through two turkeys.” 

 

“She’s gone through  _ two turkeys?”  _ Regina, if possible, feels even more smug. “What happened to the other two?” 

 

“Accidental severing of all limbs, and a grease fire in the kitchen for the second.” Emma recites, and then chuckles. “I have to warn you, Dad lost an eyebrow, and he’s very grumpy about it so don’t mention it.”

 

“That’ll be hard.” Regina murmurs, and then laughs. “Your mother will never give up on cooking.” 

 

“Nope, never.” Emma beams at her, and then looks down at the shirt in her hands. “I’ll just change then.” She looks up, and something sparks in her eyes. Before Regina can utter a word, Emma pulls her jumper over her head, and drops it on the floor, leaving her in just a red bra. 

 

Regina gulps, hard. 

 

“You don’t mind, do you?” Emma asks, and is that a hint of  _ coyness _ in her tone? Regina makes an odd choking noise as her eyes travel up the smooth planes of Emma’s abdomen, to the fire-truck red of her bra, which is, coincidentally, now the color of Regina’s face. “I mean, the bathroom is just so far away, and well,” She gestures at the two of them. “There’s no one here but us.” 

 

She then proceeds to  _ wink.  _

 

“E-Emma Swan.” Regina says, and  _ fuck it  _ she’s breathless. “Are you trying to get revenge?” 

 

Emma bats her eyelashes, and then stretches, ever so slightly. Regina,with great difficulty, drags her eyes back up to Emma’s face, and then, in a mask her mother would have been proud of, raises a single, delicate eyebrow. 

 

Emma just meets her gaze full on, a slow grin stretching across her face, before pulling on the shirt with what seems in the most dramatic manner ever. She then buttons it up, but leaves it undone at a  _ very indecent level.  _ Regina would like to say she does not approve, but unfortunately, the way her eyes seem to lower down of their own accord, say otherwise. 

 

“Back to the gingerbread then?” Regina offers. She turns back and thinks,  _ just a friend, just had a divorce, mother of your child, snow white’s bloody daughter.  _ She then meets Emma’s gaze, and gives her a bland smile. It probably wouldn’t do their friendship, or Emma’s recovery from losing her true love any good if she threw Emma against a wall right now and proceed to ravish her. 

 

She is then even further confused by the disappointed flash in Emma’s eyes. 

 

They proceed with the gingerbread, and this time, no milk is spilled. They chat about mundane things, and Emma lightens the awkward air that lingers by making little figurines of their family, and then continues to have the Evil Queen have a mock battle with the Snow figure and the David figure. 

 

The gingerbread goes in the oven, and Emma dusts off her hands, turning to beam and Regina, settling her hands on her hips. “Well that was easy!” 

 

“Emma,” Regina gives her a wry look. “You tried to put two cups of salt in the mix, rather than two cups of sugar. When I pointed it out, you didn’t think it was wrong.” 

 

Emma flushes. “Well, how was I supposed to know that too much salt tastes disgusting?” 

 

“Common sense?” 

  
Emma rolls her eyes good naturedly, lips quirking upwards. “Seems I’ve inherited my mother’s cooking skills, huh.” 

 

Regina laughs, and Emma looks at her watch, face falling. “Oh, damn it. Snow’s expecting me back for dinner. I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

 

“Sure.” Regina replies warmly, and is about to add that Emma could come back later for some freshly baked gingerbread, when the other woman leans in and kisses her on the cheek. Regina, for the third time that day, has the pleasure of feeling her face flush a distinct red. 

 

“W-what was that for?” Regina asks, hating how her voice wobbles. She repeats her familiar mantra,  _ divorced, son, snow white,  _ but finds it doesn’t seem to have any effect on the way Emma’s looking at her now. 

 

She’s looking at her in a way that makes Regina feel like she’s made of stars. 

 

“Thanks for today,” Emma says, softly. “It’s been a hard year, but you’ve made it so much better.” She bites her lip, and, when Regina doesn’t answer, too flustered to even move, she turns towards the door, hands shoved in pockets. 

 

“Emma?” Regina finally calls, just as the other woman steps out the door. 

  
“Yeah?” 

 

“You’ve made-”  _ Everything  _ “This year so much better as well.” She hopes her face doesn’t give too much away, but Emma just smiles. 

  
“Imagine if we still hated each other, huh?” 

 

_ I never hated you,  _ Regina thinks, but instead she laughs. “It’s been a journey.” 

 

Emma grins and closes the door, leaving Regina motionless, heart beating fast. 

 

And all she can think is,  _ what the hell was that about?  _

 

*******************

 

The next morning, Regina wakes up to a grinning Henry, who promptly shoves a mug of coffee in her face. “Get up, it’s Christmas!” He chirps, the gleam in his eye making Regina groan and flop back onto the pillows. 

 

“Aren’t you getting a little old to be waking up at eight and dragging me downstairs for presents?” 

 

Henry’s mock look of offense makes Regina smile into her coffee. He replies, “The day I’m too old for waking up at eight and dragging my mom downstairs for presents is the day my own kids are doing it to me.” 

 

So, Regina gamely allows herself to be pulled out of bed, and nurses her mug, watching as Henry excitedly unwraps the large box he’d been eyeing up since they arrived downstairs. His gasp of excitement tells Regina that she and Emma were more than right in getting him a new playstation. 

 

Regina herself receives a pair of earrings from Henry, tasteful purple gemstones adorning each one; a new cookbook from Granny and Red, a pair of green socks from Zelena with the words ‘queenie’ flashing away in blinking letters, and a crumbling piece of parchment with the spell to summoning a roast turkey at any given point from Mal. The last two Regina has to roll her eyes at; naturally the two other witches in town would give her the most ridiculous gifts. 

 

Not that Regina is any better- she got Mal a large pointed witch hat with the Disney cartoon of Maleficent adorned on the front, and a pair of red heels for Zelena. She wonders if Zelena will get the joke, or just slip them on and tromp around town in them for the next two months. Probably the latter. The Charmings decided that they’d exchange more personal gifts at the Christmas lunch this afternoon, but Henry does receive a couple of books and an expensive looking tie from Rumple and Belle. Regina, on the other hand, gets a couple of rare potion ingredients that she  _ knows  _ Belle must have literally fought Rumple for to give them to her as a gift. 

 

“So how’d the gingerbread making go yesterday?” Henry asks, munching away on the large hunk of chocolate he’d gotten from Violet. He’d blushed a bright red at the card attached, and Regina is far too curious about the note to care that said chocolate is in the shape of a heart. “Emma helped, right?” 

 

“Helped is a very generous word,” Regina says, wryly. “You clearly inherited your cooking skills from her.” Henry raises his eyebrow, unimpressed at her joking, and Regina laughs. “And that expression, you got from me.” 

 

“Really Mom,” Henry says, rolling his eyes. “Do you think I’m an idiot?” 

 

“No?” Regina questions, slightly baffled. “I’m a bit confused right now.” 

 

Henry takes a deep breath, and lets it out slowly. “Mo-om,” He says, emphasising the end letters. “I  _ know  _ you and Emma are like-” He squishes his two fingers together, his face morphing into one of mild disgust. “A thing.” 

 

Regina stares at him. And then stares some more. Finally, after running through all the possible ways Henry could have come to this conclusion, she goes with a high pitched squeak of, “ _ What?”  _

 

Henry lets his head drop into his palm, looking at his mother with a face of utter despair. “I mean, I suspected it, with the way that Emma looks at you, and the way you look at Emma, I mean for god’s sake there’s a freaking bet about how long its gonna take for you two to get together- but then-” He screws his face up, disgust becoming more apparent. “I come downstairs yesterday for a snack, and there’s Emma, without a shirt on, and you staring at her!  _ Really Mom? In the kitchen?”  _

 

Regina can’t help it; an undignified squawk of laughter bursts out of her, just as she slaps a hand on her mouth in an attempt to muffle it. Henry’s face only makes it worse, as he sits there, looking increasingly torn between righteous distaste, and bewilderment. “You-” Regina feels another chuckle slip through her lips, and she has to stop to laugh again. “You think Emma and I were-” 

 

“Weren’t you?” Henry asks, sniffing slightly. 

 

“No!” Regina says loudly, finally managing to get that across to her son. “No, of course not! Emma spilt some milk on her shirt and-” 

  
“Changed...in front of you…..in the kitchen?” 

 

“Yes,” Regina replies weakly, aware of how it sounds. “There’s nothing going on between us Henry, I swear. She just got divorced.” 

 

“Yeah, from a guy she never loved. Emma literally danced around the kitchen when she signed the divorce papers, I was there.” Henry snorts. Suddenly, Regina remembers an important part of his sentence beforehand. 

 

“What do you mean,  _ there’s a bet?”  _

 

“Oh.” Now it’s Henry’s turn to look uncomfortable. “It’s...nothing big, really. Just, well, when Emma came to town, and you guys still hated each other, Grumpy started this thing. A betting pool on how long it would take you guys to date. Well, apparently it was called something else back then but Grandma says it’s too grown up for me to hear.” He rolls his eyes. “I’m 17, but she likes to pretend I’m some angelic child who’s never heard a swear word.” 

 

“So do I,” Regina interrupts, giving him a stern glance. “So let’s not dwell on the name situation.” She has a pretty good idea of what Grumpy called the original bet after all. 

 

“Anyway,” Henry continues. “It kinda...spread. I found out about it two years ago-” 

 

“Two years ago? But Emma was with Hook!” 

 

“Yeah, but with you in town, no one thought that would last.” Henry dismisses her with a wave of his hand. “And we were right. The divorce got Granny seventy bucks off Moe, who thought it would at least be three years until they called it quits. Amatuer.” He shakes his head. “But anyway, Mom. My bet was that by Christmas day, you two would be together, but  _ apparently,  _ you guys aren’t.” 

 

“Well-” Regina’s feeling quite put upon by this whole revelation. Here she was, thinking that this entire time, her tortured feelings for Emma were some grand secret; now apparently, the entire town plus her rather mischievous son has been more than aware of them for some time. “No. We’ve never even- I mean- nothing’s ever-” 

 

Henry groans. “Mom. I’ve got two-hundred bucks riding on this thing. Me and Grandma are up against Grandpa Gold and Belle on this one- if we don’t win, there goes my Christmas money for this year! And I already planned how I’ll use my cut of the win-” 

 

“Emma- but Emma doesn’t-” Regina sputters, raising a hand to her hair and raking back a fistful in a rather chaotic movement. She can’t stop replaying yesterday’s events in her mind; Emma’s sly glances as she took off her shirt, the way she had been looking at Regina, the joking and laughing that had echoed through the kitchen for the entire afternoon. How could this even be  _ possible?  _

 

“Emma does. Mom, she can’t keep her eyes off you when you’re in the room, and last month when Doc accidentally referred to Robin as your ‘one true love’, she literally  _ growled  _ and stomped out of the room.” Henry replies, sighing. “I mean, Grandpa Gold said you were slow when it came to finding your happiness, but I really didn’t think he meant _ this  _ slow.” 

 

************

 

Regina arrives at Snow and Charming’s with a rather plastic smile, three batches of gingerbread, and a heart that’s threatening to beat out of her chest when she sees Emma hovering awkwardly in the background. She’s wearing a rather ridiculous pair of antlers, and Regina’s about to laugh at her when Snow plonks a furry, red Santa hat on her head. 

 

“Merry Christmas!” She trills, and Regina eyes the festoon of lights that adorn Snow’s lumpy Christmas sweater, and decides not to complain about the hat. It looks like she got off easy. 

 

David greets them as well, one eyebrow missing, and Neal, playing with a shiny new truck by the couch, toddles over with a shout. “Gina!” He grins, and Regina stoops down to give him a massive hug.    
  


“And how are you today, my little prince?” She asks, her own smile stretching across her face. The youngest Charming comes in close second as her favorite. 

 

“I got a truck!” Neal yells, waving it in her face. “And I made you a drawing!” 

 

“Indoor voice, honey.” Snow cautions, an exasperated look on her face. “He doesn’t know the meaning of volume control at the moment.” 

  
Regina takes the drawing, smiling as she sees a stick figure with an oversized crown on her head, and produces a present from behind her back, a puff of purple magic wafting away as she does. “And what do I have here?” 

 

“A present!” Neal grabs it, promptly tearing it open, and then gasps, discarding his new truck off to one side. “ _ A spaceship? _ ” 

 

Regina watches the boy wander back to the couch, already opening the box. She hands the box of gingerbread to Snow, who sighs in relief. “Thank you so much, Regina. I honestly didn’t know what I was going to do. I just had no time to make some for tonight.” 

 

“It was fine.” Regina says, and then catches a glimpse of Emma. She’s sitting on the sofa beside Neal and Henry, flying the new spaceship around Neal’s golden haired head, animated expressions dancing across her face. Regina feels like she could stare at her forever, entranced simply by the way she mimes the spaceship taking off with ridiculous stern looks at her younger brother, whose giggles light up the room. 

 

“It’s fine with us, you know.” 

 

Regina whips round her head to glance at Snow, who is looking at her with a simple smile. “What do you mean?” Regina asks, knowing exactly what Snow means. 

 

“You and Emma. I- Oddly enough, I never found it anything to fight. My daughter loves you, and has for a long time. Hook was the wrong choice, and we all knew that. But I was too scared to say anything, too scared to push her away. I’m not anymore. It’s fine, Regina, to love Emma.” 

 

“Okay.” Regina replies, searching Snow’s eyes for any kind of resentment. She finds none, and so she squares her shoulders, taking a deep breath. “Okay.” Her excuses of  _ divorced, mother of my son, snow white’s daughter  _ no longer make much sense, and she feels an odd kind of hope for the first time since she realised she was hopelessly gone for Emma Swan. 

 

_ It’s all okay.  _ Regina thinks, and she walks across the room, to where Emma is sitting. The other woman looks up at her, and Regina takes a deep breath. “Can I talk to you, Emma?” 

 

Emma sets down the spaceship, giving her a light smile. “Yeah, sure. What’s up, Regina?” 

 

“In the-” Regina clears her throat, cursing her nerves. She never used to be this easily shaken. But, as ever, Emma Swan manages to make Regina’s head spin. “In the next room, if that’s alright.” 

 

Emma’s brow creases, and off to her right, Henry gives Regina a thumbs up, before shaking his head. The expression on his face is reminiscent of the one that Regina gives Snow and David every time one of them kisses the other awake from a sleeping curse. Emma gets up from the couch and follows Regina, snagging a gingerbread man as she does. 

 

“So- what’s going on, Regina?” Emma finally asks, as Regina closes the door to the living room, settling against the wall of the small breakfast area in Snow and David’s house. “You okay?” She bites off a large chunk of the gingerbread man’s head, making a muffled noise of content as she does. “Damn, we make good gingerbread together.” 

 

“Well-” Regina swallows, hard. Her heart, usually calm and controlled in these kinds of situations  _ (not that there have been many _ ) is beating so fast it feels like it’s gonna fly out of her chest. “The thing is- Emma- well-” 

 

“Actually,” Emma interrupts, lowering the gingerbread man. Regina looks at her, meeting her eyes for the first time, and notices the way they flick away, almost instantly. She bites her lip, and is that-  _ nervousness  _ on her face? “It’s Christmas, and I have something to say as well.” 

  
Regina pauses, heart thundering a thousand miles an hour. “Oh?” 

 

“There was- There was a reason I was staring at you yesterday, Regina.” Emma fidgets, adjusting the antlers on her head aimlessly. “And I feel like I should just say it, to clear the air, because it’s not fair to you. In fact, it’s not fair, full stop. There was another reason I broke up with Hook, a reason I never told you.” 

 

Regina stays silent, every part of her thrumming with energy.  _ Please,  _ she thinks,  _ please let this be some kind of Christmas miracle, and let Emma say what I think she’s going to say. I know I’ve not exactly got a lot of good karma, but I did save my most hated nemesis’ house from a termite monster last week so maybe that’s enough for this one, small thing?  _

 

“Apparently,” Emma lets out a small laugh. She meets Regina’s eyes, taking a deep breath. “The universe thought it would be hilarious to have me fall in love with you, Regina. And I have been, for a long time now, probably since the first time I looked you in the eyes, when I came to Storybrooke- but- well things got messy. Such as you being an Evil Queen, and our son being kidnapped. And me getting married to a guy who should really just have been a regretful one night stand that I get teased about over drinks. I’ve been stupid, Regina, and you found Robin, and I know you’ll never love me back, not like you did him but-” Emma stops, and runs a hand through her hair, exhaling slowly.

 

“And everyday with you is just- I mean, do you know how  _ happy  _ I was that I got to make freaking gingerbread with you?” She waves the gingerbread man in the air, crumbs spilling from the top. “I tripped and spilt the flour and milk because I could barely walk straight from nervousness! You make me ten times clumsier than I already am, Regina!” 

 

She stops, and glances down at her feet. “Yeah. It’s Christmas, and I just wanna move past this, Regina. And I gotta tell you that, because since you can’t feel the same way, I need to move on. I can’t keep doing this. Hoping, I mean. I can’t.” 

 

“You...can’t?” Regina finally manages to croak. The entire declaration that Emma just sprouted was worthy of several good deeds, not just the termite monster, and Regina feels an indescribably happiness bubble in her chest- a kind she’d only felt once before, when she’d first held Henry in her arms. “You wanna move on?” 

 

“Yeah.” Emma replies, looking miserable. “I mean, Robin was your one true love, right? I can’t ever- I can’t compete with that.” There’s a hint of jealousy in her voice, one that makes sense- Emma glowering around Robin when he was alive, or turning her nose up at the bow and arrow lessons she was offered by Merida last month. And it makes Regina go all warm and fuzzy inside, in a way that Evil Queens never should be. 

 

“Emma,” Regina says, slowly. “Robin was never my one true love. You are.” 

 

“I-  _ me? _ ” Emma’s head shoots up, green eyes narrowing. 

 

Regina laughs, clear and bright. “Yes, you fool. That’s why I dragged you in here! I love you too, idiot!” 

 

“Me?” Emma repeats, looking rather star struck. “You- wait- you- I’m so confused right now.” 

 

Regina glances upwards, a sly grin inching onto her face. “Mistletoe.” 

 

Emma looks upwards, seeing the green sprig taped to the ceiling, courtesy of a holiday loving Snow. “Mistletoe,” She says, with a grin. 

 

Regina isn’t sure who leans in first; but they melt into each other with perfect symmetry, Emma’s arm curving around Regina’s waist, Regina’s arms linked around Emma’s neck. Emma’s lips are soft, and their kiss is slow, delicate, and utterly perfect. It feels like coming home after a tiring day, to a warm fire and delicious sleep. It feels like love, and Regina doesn’t want it to ever stop. She hasn’t felt this since Daniel- no, scratch that. All of the heartbreak, and tragedy, and pain that the both of them have gone through makes this  _ utterly  _ different, in a way that Regina never thought possible. She hasn’t felt this way, ever,  _ fullstop.  _

 

But it does, when a little voice from the doorway screams,  _ “Mom! Emma and ‘Gina are smushing their faces together!”  _

 

Emma groans, leaning her forehead against Regina’s and Regina snorts, both of them turning to look at Neal, who is looking at them, a picture of innocence. “And they said I would like having a little brother,” Emma says, arm tightening around Regina. “I guess I’m never too old to be told on.” 

 

Henry and Snow rush into the room, staring for a moment at what they are presented with. Regina’s hair is messed from it’s usual perfection, and Emma’s lips are covered in Regina’s red lipstick. 

 

“Okay, first of all,  _ ew. _ ” Henry says. “Second of all-” He turns to his grandmother, and the two of them high-five. “ _ Two-hundred bucks, baby!”  _

 

“How about you get yourselves cleaned up for lunch,” Snow says, a small smile on her face. “In the meantime, I have some town members to gloat to.” She herds Neal and Henry out of the room, the latter of which is making exaggerated gagging noises, to cover the sparkle in his eyes. 

 

“That wasn’t very private for very long.” Emma says with a chuckle, and then takes another bite of the gingerbread. “But, you mean it?” She mumbles. Even with her mouth stuffed full of cookie, Emma looks increasingly vulnerable. 

 

“Yes, I meant it.” Regina replies, gently. “You just got there before me with the great big declaration of love. Yours trumped mine, anyways.” 

 

Emma shrugs. “I’m a Charming, it’s in my blood.” 

 

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” 

 

“I’m never gonna shut up about it.” Emma retorts, a goofy grin on her face. She plants a large kiss on Regina, who laughs. 

 

“You taste like gingerbread.” 

  
Emma takes her hand, and Regina wipes some of her lipstick off of the other woman’s face. “So, we’re gonna do this then? Be all happy ending with each other?” 

 

“If you use that saying again, I will curse you.” Regina warns, but squeezes Emma’s hand. “No happy endings for us. Or happy beginnings, for fucks sake. None of that fairytale stuff, because we have way too much of that already, with termite monsters and a cursed town. Let’s just do...life. Okay? Happiness, and whatever else comes with it, because we argue far too much to be perfect. But I love you, and you love me and that’s- that’s going to be more than enough. ” 

 

“Yeah.” Emma replies, biting her lip, a grin slowly overtaking her face. “Sounds good.” 

 

“Merry Christmas, Emma.” Regina says softly, and they walk out of the room, hands clasped firmly together. 

**Author's Note:**

> This was done for the secret santa fic exchange, so to my secret santa, hope you enjoy! Merry Christmas to everyone, and a Happy New Year! 
> 
> Here's to a 2019 with even more fics of the ever-lovable Emma and Regina, falling in love, over and over.


End file.
